You’ve now entered the quest to, the black triangle

Now you know the reason for the Black Mafia theory, hahaha

Yes it has many meanings, but no matter how you define it

it still comes out black

See it’s just a hair trim

So you can call it what you want



[2Pac]

Now I clown around, when I hang around, with the Underground

but when I’m with the Mafia we DROPPIN YA

And if you’re a hoe then I’ll be knockin ya, baby why not

You shouldn’t jock me cause I’m popular

The group with the glock, I love to pop the gun

Coppers get shot, they shouldn’t try to stop the Mafia

2Pac’ll pack a person, pump the trunk

I’m bumpin G-Funk, but you can call it what you want

How many times I gotta tell ya, don’t ignore me

Either be my hoe or hit the do’, you’re nothin for me (see ya!)

That’s why I love to go on tour G

Scores of whores behind the door, a nigga’s naughty

Now, I’m sippin on a forty

So you can call it what you want just pass the blunt and kick it

Money



[Money B]

Well, I am the danger, THE DANGER, similar to a killer

I rhyme for rounds of conflicts chomp and stomp em while y’all

chillin

in Tokyo, check it as I choke a slow poke rapper

Capped his ass faster, than a half of pound of crepes’ll go on

Mother’s Day

First and fifteenth, another way of sayin it

I got new clips so trip but it’s OK to get your crew

Cause ooh I’ll send your team to the showers

They true and do and rippin and got the Wonder Twin powers

I devour much venom, lunch breaks I shit em, I just stink

Whaddya think, this is a threat? Just forget about it

Come back, you’re done black, see Cutty was the stopper

But you’ll call me the indo when I chop ya with the shopper

Sting ya with the stinger, flex the trigger finger

I blow you to bits and I be gettin a kick out of grabbin the mic

and flingin

lyrics with the maximum security

I smoke a spliff but I’m not Jamaican, so won’t you let a

Yankee Doodle Doo what he hasta, raise my hand and cast a

hellafied spell you can’t tell you better ask a

weatherman he’ll sigh and reply, "You shoulda stayed in the

house"

Cause Mon is gonna rain on their parades



[Cold 187um]

Nowww, clear the smoke, and grab a fool by his throat

And don’t let him go til he holla holla billygoat

Now Money Money Money B, once said to me

"187 why you wanna be a G?" Welllll..

I like to clock big G’s, and hang out all night

And never worry bout a bitch, cause she can’t tell me shit

Plus, money money is a pimp thang (what?)

Cause see if you was in my shoes, you’d be doin the same

So don’t ever ever fuck with, I’m a G-er playa

Cause when I’m bustin on a punk, I could never be a customer

Now peep this, cause when I’m goin deep

the only customers gettin served in the housssse, is the pussy I

freak

They wanna pop that ying-yang

I tell em, "Sit down, shut up bitch, and let me kick game"

(y’know)

Cause hoes always be sayin they got it goin on but if they wanna

get with a nigga like me they gotta pay a fee, I am not

the No Mack Nigga, from the planet called Silk

I’m from the planet Black Mafia Life, that freaks pimps

Yo, come take a sip of the psycho-mega-

pimpsome-hoesta-must-be-a-playa

Now hold up, wait a second

Nah, I fucked you bitches on the last record, yo

It’s like I’m high on a raggamuffin spliff

Me the dope sound what a man, the myth (come)

Mon they wanna see me fade shit, like I did last year

So I POST on em, then I COAST on em

No I never never never had a murder rap

And if you snitch you say I did it you’re bound to get your neck

snapped

So there it is, and how it’s gonna be

So I pass the joint, to my man KM.G



[KM.G]

Well you can call it what you want but if you don’t

I’m still a nigga with a pimp strut, ooh, a macadamia nut

Ah-say what you want, I’m workin for a cha-ohh

Well alright, you little silly ass hoe

Now when you want to rhyme to boo and get tramped (get tramped)

Give a call to the clinic, ATL’s the pimp camp

and see which playa, is up for the downstroke

(Cause you skeez-in, cause you broke)

So toast them hoes like I said before

I fuck four bitches a day, and I’m lookin for more

Cause cords of scores of hoes be leavin my house

like, BAM, and I’m like, DAMN

Now my niggaz done labelled me the dangerous neighborhood

nastyman

Cause they know I can

When you wake up in the morning I only give ya five pushes

I’ll be out by your garage, awaitin behind the bushes

drinkin coffee, smoove waitin to talk see

like a true hoe gigolo should be

See I’m a giant and the rest of them are fakers

Especially when it comes to the bitches and they moneymakers

A simp nigga hesitate to dish a tramp but I don’t

So ease back Mafioso on the corner, what you, want